Kin
by LucyLuna
Summary: Rodney had come to Scotland to visit his wife's family. He never thought he would run into his long-lost (and presumed dead!) cousin. AU. Part XV of Family Branches. One-Shot.


_Kin_

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When Rodney opened the door to his family's flat Friday afternoon after a long day at his restaurant griping about wasted food with his one-eyed chef in the kitchen and barking orders at the mostly teenage waitstaff, his lady had handed him his suitcase. She said, "We're goin' ter see me sister an' her new baby." Blue-green eyes flashing as if she expected him to complain, she told him, "It's been a long year an' this is the firs' bit o' good our family's had in ages. I wan' ter go celebrate with 'em."

Rodney resisted the urge to scowl at his wife. He hated his sister-in-law. Beth was an uppity thing who thought she was better than them since she managed to snag herself a drudge from the Ministry rather than one of the blokes from around their dying village. If he had to pick between seeing Beth or cutting off a finger with a steak knife, he'd always choose to sever a finger. However, he knew he wasn't going to be allowed to sit this visit out like he was allowed to most. The way his lady was staring him down with one hand propped on her hip and the other holding out his suitcase for him told him there'd be a Hell of a row (that he would lose) if he tried to resist.

So, Rodney sighed and took his suitcase. "Where's our lil'man?" he asked, looking around for their son.

"Here, Dad!" the boy exclaimed, coming around the corner of the hallway leading to their bedrooms. Showing off a gapped-tooth grin, the eight-year-old told him, "Just had ter finish packin' me toys!"

Rodney's lady chortled and beckoned their boy to her. "I told yeh, we're only goin' fer the weekend."

"Oh, but please, Mum? There's never nothin' ter do at Aunt Beth's!"

The relief he felt was palpable at those words. A weekend. He could last a weekend with Beth— Well, if he took up smoking again. Needing a fag was always a perfect excuse to get away from snotty Beth and her hen-pecked husband.

"Aw, there's no harm ter it," he said. "If he fergets some, Beth can just owl 'em back ter us later."

His son's eyes gleamed with happiness and adoration as his lady shook her head. "I suppose," she relented. Playfully, she wagged her finger at Rodney. "It's on yeh when Beth gets in a huff about Hugh makin' a mess!"

Rodney put a hand over his heart. "O' course," he promised. He didn't mind being the scapegoat — Not for Hugh, his boy. Silently, he sent a prayer of thanks to his cousin. He reckoned she was long dead, but the lessons on love she'd taught him had stuck with him. Even if it hadn't for most of his siblings. In spite of all of their teasing of her, watching on in silence as their mother berated her, or pretending to sleep when their father came into the room they all shared at night to hurt her, she stood up for Rodney and all of his brothers and sisters. Even when they made stupid mistakes like using their mum's good serving dishes for "potions" or covering for them when their accidental magic broke something.

His cousin was his greatest inspiration — even now, ages later when he was a man with a child and wife who'd lived twice as long as her.

-o-O-o-

Basking in the late morning sunlight as he strolled through the still fairly quiet streets of Hogsmeade, Rodney, began to look for a place to sit down to have a smoke. A little while later he spotted some chairs in front of a blown-out shop. 'The owner must not o' gotten 'round ter fixin' it yet,' he thought to himself as lumbered off the main throughway of Hogsmeade to take a seat in one of the non-charred and twisted up chairs scattered around some knocked over and upside-down tables. Bringing out his pack of cigarettes, he drew his wand and lit one.

Taking a drag, he contemplated how much longer he could get away with watching the activity of Hogsmeade before he'd have to return to his sister-in-law's. He reckoned he had a bit. His lady and Beth had been oohing and awing over a home catalog while Rhys had tucked himself away in the kitchen to feed his daughter. The only one he had to worry about was Hugh, but his boy would be alright. He'd left him playing with a slingshot in the yard. If he got bored, so be it. It would do his spoiled brat good.

A few minutes later as he stamped out his fag and prepared to get up and head back, he spotted a woman with a girl and a pram. It wasn't an odd sight in itself, but there was something… _familiar_ about the woman. Like he'd seen her before? Was she another of the girls who'd managed to escape their village for a more prosperous life up here near Hogwarts? The girl with the woman said something, causing her to turn her head.

Rodney nearly dropped his pack of fags at what he saw. That scar. It was impossible! It couldn't be her… Yet what would the odds be that someone would have a scar just like his cousin on the same cheek? Taking a hesitant step forward, he didn't notice the jarred cobbled stone sticking up in front of him and fell forward with a strangled shout.

They noticed him then, he was certain. As a moment later the girl was stood in front of him, one of her small hands flitting over his shoulder. "Are you okay, sir?"

He stared at her. She was a sweet-looking thing with blonde hair his sisters would have envied as girls (and maybe even now, as women) and a small bud of a mouth just like his cousin's. Gently waving her off, Rodney brought himself to his feet. "I'm fine, thank yeh," he told the girl.

Her honey-brown eyes lit up. "You and my mum talk the same," she said.

Feeling almost guilty as he looked over the girl's head and to her mother, he said, "Oh?"

"Yes," she confirmed. "There aren't too many who talk like her around here, just Hagrid, really. A few students I don't know very well _almost_ do, but not exactly."

Rodney was surprised when the girl wrapped her hand around his own and pulled at him, leading him up to someone he'd thought of last as an angel watching over him from the other side. When they stopped, just three steps or so from his cousin, all he could do was stare at Edie, wide-eyed and fascinated. Her face was closed to him, but Rodney didn't mind. Instead, he just took in what was there for him to see.

There was still a lot of the teenager who used to live with him and his family in his cousin. However, it seemed the years hadn't exactly been kind to her. Edie had heavy worry lines marring her forehead, telling him she'd spent at least a good few years fretting over someone or something (probably a husband, or the war, like many in Britain). His eyes drifted to the pram. A baby with wispy brown hair lay inside. He was big. Big enough in a couple of months, he would no longer need a pram. Was he Edie's as well?

"Edie, he sounds like you," the girl said to her mother, startling him. Rodney wondered why the girl called his cousin by her first name, rather than the typical mum. Was she the girl's stepmother? That didn't seem possible. She looked quite a bit like Edie. Rodney decided to refrain from asking; he didn't think she'd say. Or appreciate the question.

His cousin's expression changed and a warmth overtook it as she turned her attention to her daughter. "Is tha' so?"

"Mmhm!"

Her gaze was cool when she returned her attention to him. With forced politeness, she asked, "Wha's brought yeh ter Hogsmeade? It's rather far from West Country."

"Me lady," he replied. Nervously fingering his box of cigarettes, he elaborated, "Her sister lives not far an' me wife wanted us – meself an' me son – ter come up with her ter meet her new niece." Edie's face cracked a little at the mention of his family. Rodney knew he should tell her he had to be going, that his wife was going to expect him back from his stroll any minute, but he felt compelled to tell her more.

He wanted Edie to know not all of his siblings and him turned out like their parents, some of them (him and his lil'sister) had remembered her selflessness and emulated it. Clearing his throat, he continued, "Her sister's some o' the last family we got we speak ter regularly. Mine's full o' louts an' drunks we don't much see. Especially now tha' the one good one among 'em, me youngest sister, died. Maud was a hero. She died distractin' Death-Eaters so the Muggle-borns she was helpin' ter cross the Channel ter France could get away with their lives."

Edie's eyes became glossy. It had been a lifetime ago now, yet it seemed his cousin recalled Maud well. Then again, how could his cousin have forgotten her? She'd practically raised Maud from the moment she was born. Rodney reckoned it was why his lil'sister had been such a sweet girl; Edie's kind touch had shaped her very heart into gold. "I'm sorry ter hear about yer sister— an' the rest." She pressed a hand briefly to her mouth before pulling her daughter close to embrace. "We lost me husband an' Calliope's father ter the war as well."

"Me condolences," he said, ducking his head to give her a moment to compose herself.

There was an awkward silence, which was finally broken by Edie asking, "Yer son…"

"Yeah?" he prompted when she failed to follow through with her question.

Edie noticeably breathed in and out before she questioned, "Wha's his name?"

"Hugh," he answered. "He's a big lad, takes after his mum's dad tha' way. But his hair's a bunch o' springy curls like Maud had an' a smile like yer girl's."

His cousin nodded. "I'll look fer 'im. I'm trainin' ter be Hogwarts's new librarian startin' this fall."

Rodney's chest swelled. Someone from his family worked at _Hogwarts_? Well, he'd have to rub that in Beth's face when he had the chance. It'd be sure to piss her off and delight his lady, knowing there'd be somebody at the castle to look out for their boy. "Good fer yeh!" he praised, sadness forgotten for the moment. "Workin' there's a real accomplishment."

For a moment, she looked shocked. Her features then melted and a faint smile began at the corners of her lips. Eyes warm like they had been when she spoke to her daughter, Edie said, "Thank yeh. Tha' means a lot."

Bobbing his head, Rodney looked down a moment to see Calliope was staring at him, fine brows pulled together, and a look of puzzlement puckering her lip. It was obvious she was trying to understand why he was sharing so much, why Edie was asking after his child, and why Rodney was praising her mother for working at Hogwarts. As far as this girl knew, they were just strangers; yet they were talking like old acquaintances or as something even closer, like childhood mates.

Rodney decided he ought to end this encounter now— Before the girl started to ask questions of them neither would want to answer. He cleared his throat."It was nice talkin' ter yeh," he said, truly meaning it. Seeing Edie again made him feel as if he was under a feather-light charm. She was _alive_. She was well. Better than well, even. She'd married, had children, and was now going to work at one of the most wondrous places in all of the world – _Hogwarts_. If he died today, it would be happy. The biggest mystery of all his life was solved – joyfully, too.

He offered his hand to the girl, who reluctantly took and shook it. "An' ter meet yeh, Calliope." Once he had his hand back, he safely tucked it in the pocket of his pants and told them, "But I must be goin'. My lady's gonna wonder where I've gone off ter."

"Ta, Rodney," Edie replied, tone an echo of his own jolly voice. "Good ter see yeh well."

He nodded in acknowledgment before turning around and walking off in the direction of his sister-in-law's. He looked back before he turned the corner, hoping to maybe get one last glimpse of his cousin and her children, but they were already gone. 'Shame,' he thought. 'I'll have ter ask Hugh ter tell me how Edie is when he starts his schoolin'.'

A short time later, when he came through the kitchen's back door, he was met by Beth's husband pacing the kitchen as he tried to put his daughter to sleep. The older man looked him over with a red eye and remarked, "You look quite pleased."

"I ran in ter somebody," he told his brother-in-law. Grinning, he added, "She's doin' real well."

A ghost of a smirk overcame his pale, unremarkable face. " _She_?"

Rodney rolled his eyes at the man and decided to otherwise ignore the remark before pushing past him to get at the kettle sitting on the stove. Giving it a poke, he grumbled, "Why's this damn thing always empty when I wan' a cuppa?"

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 **This didn't end up focusing on Edie like I wanted, but I still like it. Even though it's more about Rodney and him encountering Edie again, I feel it gives a good look into her past and the people who came before Severus and Darla and the girls.**

 **Thank you all so very much for reading :)**


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